


Say You Won't Let Go

by MagnoliasInBloom



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25380973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnoliasInBloom/pseuds/MagnoliasInBloom
Summary: Inspired by James Arthur’s song, a brief retelling of a life well lived and loved.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 68
Kudos: 159





	Say You Won't Let Go

**_I met you in the dark, you lit me up  
You made me feel as though I was enough  
We danced the night away, we drank too much  
I held your hair back when  
You were throwing up_ **

Jamie was elated. And very drunk. Claire had danced with him, then proceeded to drink all of their friends under the table. He was cautious to believe the tight grip she had on him as they had swayed to the music was anything other than the alcohol, but he could hope, could he not?

Invited by Geillis, his feisty neighbor, to try and distract him after the sudden death of his father a few months ago, he had accepted, knowing that Claire – Geillis’s equally feisty, curly-headed roommate, would be there too. His Sassenach… or at least, that’s how he referred to her privately, in the recesses of his mind, and his heart. Jamie had been hopelessly in love with her for a year now.

Celebrating the end of their medical school exams, the party raged on, growing louder and more raucous as the night wore on. Eventually, they were kicked out at closing time. Guiding Claire and Geillis to the street corner as he summoned an Uber on his phone, Geillis suddenly changed tack and declared she would be spending the night with her boyfriend, Arthur Duncan.

“Ye can manage, can’t ye, Jamie? Braw lad.” With a hearty slap on the back, Geillis tottered over to Arthur, who welcomed her with open arms as they tried repeatedly to hail a cab.

Of the two, Jamie was in better, slightly less drunk condition. Claire, completely sloshed, leaned heavily on Jamie, who felt his face redden as her breasts pressed against him. The Uber pulled up, and Jamie opened the door for her.

“Och, lass, in ye get, come on.” He supported her as she climbed into the passenger seat, averting his eyes as her dress rucked further up her legs. Claire slumped into the seat as he buckled her in.

“You…shhhmell good, Fraser.” Christ, she was properly sozzled, if she was calling him by his surname.

“Um, thank ye?” Jamie shook his head as he slid into the opposite side, and they were driven to their apartment building.

After helping an increasingly uncooperative Claire up the stairs (the lift conveniently out of service), finding the key in her purse, and leading her to her bedroom, she made a beeline for the bathroom instead, where he could hear her vomit.

“Oh God.” Jamie followed her into the bathroom and immediately reached down to hold her hair back. He thought of how tempted he had always been to touch the mad riot of her hair. 

**_Then you smiled over your shoulder  
For a minute, I was stone-cold sober  
I pulled you closer to my chest  
And you asked me to stay over  
I said, I already told ya  
I think that you should get some rest_ **

Jamie helped her rinse her mouth out at the sink. Claire turned to him with a sweet, drunken smile that went straight to his wame. He managed to return it somewhat shakily as he led her to her bed.

“You should sh-shtay, Jamie,” she slurred, patting the space next to her. Jamie felt the last of the whisky fog leave him, and he felt quite awake and sober suddenly. She could not possibly be suggesting…

“No, Sassenach, ‘tis not proper, you’re not in yer right senses.” He tucked her in and fussed about with the blankets, that she might not see his face.

“Mebbe not, but I know what I want.” What was that saying, children and drunks always tell the truth? “An’ I want you, Jamie. Have for a looong time. Since we met, I think. Yeshhh, that’s right. You are pretty…” She batted at his face absently.

Jamie’s heart went into overdrive, pounding crazily, but he ignored it. She was out of it with drink. She would not remember this tomorrow. But perhaps she was right, and he should stay in case she was sick again or tried to walk and had an accident. He’d take the lumpy couch he’d helped haul up from the charity shop where Geillis had found it.

Claire’s eyes were already drifting shut. He would leave her to rest. As he made to leave, Jamie couldn’t resist smoothing the curls from her forehead.

As he did so, Claire’s eyes fluttered open one last time and she sighed, “I think I _will_ marry you, Fraser. Cosss I love you.”

And with that, she finally passed out.

**_I knew I loved you then  
But you'd never know  
'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go  
I know I needed you  
But I never showed  
But I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old  
Just say you won't let go  
Just say you won't let go_ **

“I like ye Claire. I’d like to ask ye on a date.”

Jamie wiped the sweat off his forehead and thought he looked feckin’ ridiculous, with his face aflame enough to match his hair as he practiced in front of the pub’s restroom mirror. It had been a week since the drunken flat encounter.

Claire had woken him up with the brightest smile this side of hung over and a cup of steaming coffee. That luminosity and that lazy curl playing on her forehead… Despite her declarations of love and the fact that she’d like to marry him (two thoughts that made his heart flip flop thrillingly in the vicinity of his throat), Jamie felt a date was in order first and foremost.

Jamie glanced once more at the graffiti surrounding his face in the mirror, took a deep breath, and stepped out back into the pub. Claire was at the bar, laughing at something Geillis had said (something dirty, no doubt).

With a deep breath, Jamie stepped closer to Claire and leaned in close so she could hear him over the din of the place.

“Claire, could I speak wi’ ye outside fer a minute?”

“Sure, Jamie. Hey Gee, order me another whisky?”

“Sorted!”

Outside in the warm June night, Jamie faced a quizzical-looking Claire. Her smile caused his heart to stutter and the following to tumble from his mouth:

“You date me, Claire and I’d ask to like ye on a – ah, _mallaichte bas!_ ”

Not at all how he’d imagined it going.

“What?” Claire’s cheeks turned rosy red as she laughed, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. He ran his fingers through his flaming hair and chuckled.

“I apologize, I meant to say—”

“Oh, I know what you meant. I like you, and I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

**_I'll wake you up with some breakfast in bed  
I'll bring you coffee with a kiss on your head  
And I'll take the kids to school  
Wave them goodbye  
And I'll thank my lucky stars for that night_ **

“Six bairns, you say.” Claire rolled the _r_ like he did, endearing as ever.

“Aye, wi’ red hair, of course.”

“All of them?”

“Well, no, not necessarily, but I imagine it would be curly, like yers.” Jamie traced the spiraling locks down her back, stretching the curls and watching in fascination as they sprang back into place.

Their first date had gone smashingly well. They had shared dinner, then drinks, and hours and hours of laughter and jokes. This was a side of Claire Jamie had never seen, but suspected he wanted to be his forever. That date had led to another, and coffee in the morning or afternoons, depending on the schedule of Claire’s graduate entry program.

The more time they spent together, the more they realized the strength of the bond between them. Jamie spoke of when he first saw her, how he called her his Sassenach in his head and heart, and _mo nighean donn_ for the first time out loud; Claire herself confessed that she had always found him attractive, and kindhearted, and amazingly available, despite the looks he commanded from the other girls in their social group. Their friendship had turned to that indefinable _else_ – love, acknowledged and declared in a passionate kiss that had ended in them exploring each other’s bodies for the first time. There had been many other times since.

Jamie shifted in the bed, tracing tickling patterns on her back as she sighed contentedly. Her whisky eyes were barely discernible in the candlelit glow of his room, but he could see them open at half-mast; that glint of desire that matched his own and prompted their next words.

“Perhaps we should get started. Six is a lot of children.” Claire reached down to grasp him firmly, but Jamie shied away with a brief laugh, clasping her hand instead.

“I’d like to marry ye first, Sassenach.”

“Well, that could be some time from now, Jamie,” she pouted, still trying to touch him as he skirted her roving hands and pulled the nightstand drawer open.

“It could be weeks, or even days if ye wanted.” He produced a small black velvet box and knelt on the bed, where Claire went suddenly still with a small gasp.

“I believe ye had already decided ye wanted to marry me, that time you were fair gone with drink after yer exams, but I thought I’d ask properly.”

“Oh, I remember.” Claire smiled faintly, tears coursing down her face. “The occasion, not what I actually said. Remind me?”

“I ken what I want,” Jamie said, recalling her words. “I want ye, Claire. I have for a long time, ever since we met. Ye are beautiful, Sassenach, and I want to marry ye. Because I love ye. Will ye have me?”

**_When you looked over your shoulder  
For a minute, I forget that I'm older  
I wanna dance with you right now  
Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever  
And I swear that everyday'll get better  
You make me feel this way somehow_ **

The church was lit with small votives that lent an understated glow to the stained-glass windows. Jamie thought his heart was going to burst as Claire walked towards him on the arm of her beloved Uncle Lamb.

She was beautiful, seeming to float in her gauzy wedding dress. The smile on her face, though – that was pure magic. Surrounded by their nearest and dearest—his godfather in representation of his late Mam and Da, his siblings, her medical school colleagues, her uncle standing in for her own departed parents—Claire and Jamie pledged their love for each other.

“Ye are blood of my blood,” Jamie said, voice trembling slightly, “and bone of my bone. I give ye my body, that we two may be one. I give ye my spirit, ‘til our life shall be done.” He placed a thin gold wedding band on Claire’s finger, and she clung to his hands tightly as she repeated the vow and slid a matching ring onto his.

They walked out of the small Scottish church to the applause and cheers of their friends waving sparklers in the Highland summer twilight. At the reception Claire felt shivers walk up her spine as Jamie traced her bare shoulders ever so gently while Uncle Lamb recited Burns.

_Till a the seas gang dry, my dear,  
And the rocks melt wi the sun;  
I will luve thee still, my dear,  
While the sands o life shall run…_

Jamie leaned in to whisper into Claire’s ear. “Yer face is my heart, Sassenach, and the love of ye is my soul.”

**_I'm so in love with you  
And I hope you know  
Darling your love is more than worth its weight in gold  
We've come so far my dear  
Look how we've grown  
And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old  
Just say you won't let go  
Just say you won't let go_ **

Jamie watched Claire sleeping on her side, hands tucked dreamily under her head. He traced the curve of her swelling belly with eyes, then tender hands, lightly so as not to wake his very pregnant wife.

He wondered if it would be a wee lad or lass. They had decided not to find out, and be properly surprised until the day. Their other child, Faith, was eagerly awaiting her baby brother or sister. He made a mental note to buy a couple of small gifts to give the ween, on behalf of the new bairn.

Claire stirred, shifting, and her golden eyes landed on him, smiling drowsily and patting the space next to her on the bed.

“What’re you doing? Watching me sleep again?”

“Aye, love. Ye ken me well.”

“Stalker.” She yawned and carefully turned, cradling the heft of her belly as she did so. He lay behind her, his chest to her back, and placed his hands on hers.

“Have ye thought more on names?” Jamie’s big hands caressed her gently, moving to press against her back as she moaned in relief.

“Oh, right there, yes… I have some ideas. Well, an idea. What do you think of Brian if it’s a boy, after your da? Or Brianna, if it’s a girl?”

Jamie’s breath caught in his throat, touched beyond words. A brief squeeze of her shoulder told her all he had to say about her suggestion.

“It’s settled then,” she murmured, half asleep again. Jamie let her go under, slipping carefully out of bed. He went about his nighttime routine: turning lights off, checking doors and windows to make sure they were locked, a final peek at Faith in her big-girl bed, clutching her worn lovey.

Finally, he climbed back into bed, facing Claire this time. He found himself drawn to her features again, in peaceful slumber, until he closed his eyes as he fell in love with her again.

**_I wanna live with you  
Even when we're ghosts  
'Cause you were always there for me when I needed you most_ **

Jamie had Claire’s hands in a death grip as Dr. Rawlings waited quietly for them to process the news. He could feel the delicate tracery of veins in her hands, could recite them from memory, every mark, every spot, every loving wrinkle 76 years of life had wrought on her skin.

 _Breast cancer_. Jamie’s stomach was lodged somewhere in his throat and Claire—his wife, life’s blood, his heart—sat next to him, stone still, her knuckles white with the strength of her control.

“Alright,” Claire finally broke the terrified silence. “Radiation, chemo, the usual, right?”

“We could start there. Another option you may want to consider is a double mastectomy, given we are at a stage two diagnosis. With radiation, your chances of cancer returning drop significantly.”

Jamie found his voice. “What are her chances of… of survival?”

“Each case is individual.” Dr. Rawlings cleared his throat. “Mrs. Fraser’s chances are extremely good, however. We’ve detected it relatively early, and with proper treatment, she has excellent chances. But as you know,” he said, addressing Claire directly now, “we cannot make any firm promises.”

“We understand.” Claire released Jamie’s hands and brushed her fingers lightly over her clavicle, no doubt thinking of the betrayal she felt her body had committed.

“Please take some time to discuss your options with your husband. I’ll give you some privacy.” The doctor stood and shut the door behind him.

The silence returned, deafening in Jamie’s ears and pounding inside his head, despite the multitude of thoughts and the paralyzing fear he felt. He turned to Claire, tears in his eyes; he found steely resolve in hers.

“Jamie, I want the mastectomy.” She swallowed hard and touched the tops of her breasts again. “I think it’s the surest way. I don’t want the chemo. I’ll have the radiation to be sure, but the children—”

“The children are grown, Sassenach. They have children of their own. I ken ye dinna want them to worry for ye, but they’ll want to help, they’ll want to be there with ye every step o’ the way. As do I, Claire.” He reached for her hand again and kissed it.

“So, you agree to the surgery? It means both my breasts will be removed. Jamie, my body—” Claire choked on the last word, tears finally streaming down her cheeks.

“Yer body is beautiful, Sassenach. It will always be beautiful to me, I will always love ye as ye are, no matter what.” He reached across his chair to envelop her in his arms, rubbing up and down her back while she went quietly to pieces.

“I can bear pain myself,” he said softly into her hair, “but I couldna bear yours. That would take more strength than I have.” Jamie pressed a kiss on her temple and leaned back to look Claire square in the eye. “But I will continue to learn from ye, and be yer strength when ye need it most, love. I will support yer choice.”

Claire took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. “The surgery. It’s early days, Jamie. I have a very good chance. But if you’d rather I go through chemo instead…”

“It’s yer mind, and yer good, good heart that I cherish, and I’ll always love and adore yer body no matter what.”

**_I'm gonna love you 'til  
My lungs give out  
I promise 'til death we part like in our vows  
So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows  
Finally it's just you and me 'til we're grey and old  
Just say you won't let go  
Just say you won't let go_ **

Jamie was dreaming.

She walked across the field of heather at Lallybroch, wild dark hair dancing in the wind. Claire. His Sassenach.

He was dreaming because she looked young again, as she had when they had first met. He was dreaming because Claire had been gone for 2 years, passing away in her sleep after battling cancer. Taking his heart with her.

“ _Mo nighean donn._ ”

“Jamie.” She reached out and cradled his cheek in her hand. He covered her hand in his own and marveled at the feel of her, a dream or memory no longer, and he understood.

“Am I… dead?”

“You are, my love. In the general sense of the word.” A brief tinge of regret flashed in her amber eyes, to be replaced by fathomless love. “But you are also here with me.”

Jamie looked down and saw his own aged and careworn body, lying peacefully on its side near the broch where he had been walking. He looked like he was sleeping. He remembered stumbling suddenly, falling, and then no more. Despite his advanced age, despite his children’s words, he had refused to stop his morning strolls, and now…

“Will they find me?”

“Brianna sent Roger after you. He will be with her, don’t worry. And Faith has Robert, and they have their children. They will all be alright, after a while.”

“I dinna wish to cause our children pain.” Jamie slid his arms around Claire’s waist, burrowing into her neck and still marveling at the realness, the _wonder_ of her again.

“Pain is a part of life. It is a testament to how much we have loved.”

Jamie pulled away from her, intense and tender at once. “I never stopped, Claire. Ye must ken that. Loving you. These past two years, I have existed, but not lived. For Faith and Brianna, the weans, I tried to go on.” It seemed important, somehow, for him to say this now. “I continued, for their sakes—though I would not have, for my own.”

That miraculous touch again. “They will take comfort in the knowledge that you and I are together again.”

Jamie took her face in his and kissed her mouth, warm honey as he’d always known it, as he remembered. “Forever?”

Claire smiled, luminous. “That amount of time does not exist.”

Hand in hand, they walked into the light.

**_Just say you won't let go  
Oh, just say you won't let go_ **


End file.
